1594
by Tib Dunncan
Summary: Six months after the wedding, Tracy disappears while on assignment. Rae's magic-tarnished wedding band is the only reassurance she has that he's not dead, and she's willing to go to Hell and back to bring him home. Based off of SCP-1594 by wafflestories.
1. Chapter 1

Tracy bent over quietly, slipping his hand beneath the child's pillow and groping for the tooth. Had to be there somewhere, he thought irritably. This was his last assignment for the day, and then he could go home to Rae. He smiled softly at the thought.

He had been a Tooth Fairy for a little more than a decade, and had quickly proved himself to be quite capable, despite what many had thought about wingless fairies in his line of work. He'd proved them wrong, though, and was now the leader of his collection team.

Tracy frowned and found that he was elbow-deep in the pillow, searching for the tooth. His fingers brushed something, and he tugged, withdrawing his arm and taking with him a thin slip of paper. He stood straight, squinting down at it, trying to make out the dark graphite letters in the dim light of the child's bedroom.

His lips traced the words as he read, "Don't move… and you won't… be…"

His eyes widened and he spun around, seeing a figure in the dark, a small, younger woman, who froze with a fistful of salt, and he cried out, waking the boy – who ran from the room – and rushing towards the mother, who jerked back, throwing what was left of the salt in her hand directly at his face; the fairy reared back, throwing his hands up to shield his face and feeling his palms burn upon contact. He staggered back, contained by a circle of salt that extended far past the boy's bed, arcing around him, unbroken in any single place that he could use to escape.

He turned back towards the mother, watching patiently as she raised another fistful of table salt, feeling relief wash through him at the discovery of what she was using. Common table salt wasn't all too dangerous. It could leave a nasty scar if left in contact with his skin too long, but it wasn't nearly as lethal as some other compounds.

"Hello,"Tracy said gently, smiling down at the wide-eyed woman on the outside of the circle. "I'm the Tooth Fairy."

She didn't move from her spot, but raised a small black device to her lips. "Subject appears to be upwards of six feet, humanoid male in appearance. Wingless, though he calls himself the Tooth Fairy," she whispered harshly.

"Not all fairies have wings," he explained, though he knew she hadn't been talking to him. Seemed to be taking notes, which he found a bit odd, but who could tell with humans?

"Speaks modern English." She noted. "The time is three twenty two AM in Westport, Connecticut, and subject is contained in my son's bedroom by a ring of table salt, which seems to have enough of an effect on him."

Tracy bent over slightly. "Sorry?" he asked. "Sorry, could have _sworn_, just for a moment, that is sounded like I was being taken… _captive?_" He was not met with an answer. "Lady?"

The woman straightened, placing the small recording device back into her pants pocket. "You will refer to me as Ma'am or Doctor Geter. When a containment squad arrives, you are not to put up a fight, or else they will be forced to take you by any means necessary. Do you understand?"

Tracy was horrified and enraged all at once, bringing himself up to his full height, shoulders pushed back. "Sure, I _understand_. That doesn't mean I'm going to let any human take me _anywhere_. I just came for the tooth, _ma'am_. Since that doesn't seem to be on your agenda, I'll be on my way."

Tracy willed himself to leave The Human Plane, feeling the magic inherently in his body give a jump start, snapping between the bedroom and the lobby of Fairy, but never making the connection. He fell backwards, heavily, onto the young boy's bed, light headed, losing track of himself for a few minutes as he tried to work out what had happened. He stood, supporting himself against the wall.

It was the salt, it had to be. The ring was preventing any magic from entering or exiting the field, and this meant that he was unable to teleport, unable to go back to the safety of Fairy Land.

Soon, a black gloved hand clamped over his mouth, pulling his head back forcefully, causing him to cry out in pain as he lost balance, toppling backwards. Immediately upon impact, he felt at least two more people throw themselves on top of him, and fear ripped through his chest as he struggled, trying to pull his limbs from the humans' grasps. He tugged and thrashed, trying to break free so that he could muscle past the circle, which inhibited his magic, and transport himself back to Fairy Land, back to safety and back to Rae.

The gloved hand never budged, keeping him from crying out, impairing his breathing and his movements slowed. None of his attackers spoke a word, staying stock still as they restrained him. Eventually, his movements stopped all together, his head falling back and he whimpered, submitting. One brute shifted, and took something from his belt. There was s sharp pain in his side, the prick of a syringe. He tried to shift away from it, but all too late. The fear in his chest died, his mind clouded by whatever they'd injected him with – a common sedative, no doubt, he thought wearily. He let out another pitiful noise, a muffled plea for his wife, before the drug coursing through his veins blanketed him in a half sleep. He was aware, he felt them lift him from the small bed and carry him off. As he felt the night air, cold against the perspiration on his skin, he slipped under, one last pang of fear shooting though him before he lost consciousness.

Tracy woke, lying flat on his back on the floor. His breathing came in ragged gasps, his cheeks wet and he pawed gently at his eyes, sitting up; everything was blurry, and he had to squint to see his surroundings. The room was small – five meters squared, though he had no way of telling. It was bare save for a cot that was set in the middle. The man staggered to his feet, going towards the nearest wall to brace himself against. He took two steps, hand outstretched to meet the wall and howled in pain, stumbling backwards and falling to the concrete floor with a hard thud. He stared blankly at his hand, watching the skin of his palm bubble and blister. He cursed loudly, closing his palm and seeing pops of light as the pain in his hand came to a crescendo. He couldn't see much of anything properly, but there was no mistaking the acrid burning smell of salt and iron. He moved away from the spot, squinting at it suspiciously.

These people, whoever they were, knew too much about fairies, too much about how to subdue magic, for him to feel safe. He sniffled lightly, watching as someone entered the room, closing the thick cement door behind him. He simply stood there, staring down at the clipboard. Tracy wanted to approach the man, but had a dreading suspicion that he was encircled by that awful concoction that, given the right planning and execution, could kill a fairy with as little as one teaspoon. He silently prayed that whatever their intentions with him were, that they were ignorant of the various ways to sap the magic from his body. His heart raced at the thought as he called to the man. "I have to go home. I don't… I don't _belong_ here, I just… Please! I just want to go home, I want to go back to my _wife—_"

The man looked up. "You're married?" he asked, eyeing the fairy curiously.

Tracy felt the anger boiling in his blood. "Of course I am, what'd you think the ring—" he stopped again, having reached down to cradle the silver band, only to feel bare skin. He stared blankly at the spot it had once been. He rounded on the man, shooting forward and feeling that same burning sensation course through his body before he moved backwards, into the protection of the circle.

The man seemed unfazed, but took note of Tracy's little outburst. "I'm sorry, but metal is not allowed inside containment cells. We've lost too many specimens that way."

"Please, mate. S'my _wedding_ ring." He reasoned, but the man merely shook his head, dismissing notion. The captive fumed, feeling sick and sitting down on the cot, his head in his hands. "I just want to go home," he said flatly. "Haven't done anything wrong. I'm a Tooth Fairy, I was just doing my job. Haven't hurt anyone, have I?"

"It's not that you've done anything wrong," the main said thoughtfully, scribbling something onto the clip board. "No. But out knowledge of your species is severely lacking. Your kind doesn't belong with us, in out homes and around our children. Someone has to control you." He said and walked off, leaving Tracy alone again.

The cold realization settled over him. _This_ was why fairies thought humans were monsters. He was being held here because he was a fairy, because he wasn't human. He sunk down into the cot, feeling a hole gnawing at his chest. A small part of him refused to believe that this was happening. He looked around the room, hoping for something, anything that would be a means of escape. The walls, even if he had been able to reach them, were bare, the cinder blocks sealed tightly with mortar.

Tracy was left to ponder how everything had turned so sour so quickly. Just yesterday, he'd kissed his wife goodbye as they parted ways at work – he'd told her that they'd be going out later, when he got home, but now there was little chance that he'd ever see her again.


	2. Chapter 2

Rae woke with a start the next morning, the blanket slipping to the living room floor as she picked her head up from the arm of the couch. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she replaced the throw and made her way through the house, calling for her husband and checking each room.

He wasn't home.

She felt uncomfortable, alone in the house, without him. Things had gotten so much better since she started college, since they'd married, but she couldn't lie – there were still those terrifying pangs of loneliness when he wasn't around. She constantly worried for him; she knew that the humans he worked with could be dangerous if they didn't understand or if they didn't believe.

She picked up the phone and dialled his cellular. It didn't even try to connect them, but sent her straight to the machine. His battery had probably died, she remembered that he'd complained about having to charge it before they went to bed two nights ago. If he'd never come home, he hadn't gotten that chance. The beep snapped her out of her reverie, and she stuttered for a moment before speaking into the receiver. "Hi, babe. Listen, can you just… stop by my desk when you get the chance, when you get back to Fairy? I missed you last night. Love you," she said softly, and hung up, feeling uncertain. There was the chance that he might not get the message, sure, but trying was better than nothing.

She dressed, hearing the alarm go off in their bedroom, and readied for work

The morning at Fairy was quiet and calm, though Rae's heart thundered against her ribs, fear ripping through her every few moments, when a new thought struck her. Her hands trembled as she hit the keys of the typewriter or moved to place a paper in a file. She was constantly fidgeting, unable to contain her nervousness. Her eyes darted back and forth between her work and the entrance to the offices, waiting for him to come through the double doors and for the pounding in her chest to cease.

Other fairies talked to her while she waited, and she tried to seem interested, but they all drifted out of conversation after a while, clearly seeing that there was something else on her mind, not wanting to burden her with trivial stories about the last company party. One or two asked her what was wrong, but she merely shook her head and muttered to herself, "Nothing, he'll be here soon, nothing's wrong."

Still, she couldn't shake that awful feeling that he _wouldn't_ be there soon. She couldn't help but feel as if something was terribly wrong. She sat back from the typewriter for a moment, trying to compose herself. Her fingers found her wedding ring, and she began twisting it around her ring finger, feeling the cool, smooth metal heat up with friction against her skin. The ring was a wonderful reminder that he was always closer than she thought, that she always had a part of him, and that they were forever connected.

The thought evened her breathing out and she resumed her work, compelled to look up every few minutes in her anticipation. She didn't dare look at the wall clock mounted behind her, for fear of one of two things. She was certain that if she looked, either so little time will have passed, and she had the rest of the morning to anxiously await her husband, or time had flown out the window, taking the chances of him meeting her with it.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she leapt from her chair, spinning around to face a very startled Veronica, who was holding two coffee cups. She saw Rae's expression, frightened and bewildered, and she held one of the cups out. "Just thought you'd like one. You seem in a bit of a haze." The woman said, her soft pink wings fluttering in concern.

Rae took it numbly, her eyes travelling to that cursed spot on the wall, the dread blossoming in her chest the moment she did. It was a quarter to two in the afternoon.

She set it on her desk, eyes never leaving the clock and her stomach turning sour. Her body stopped – everything stopped. Veronica was talking to her, but it barely registered. She moved slowly from her desk, towards the doors that led from the office complex. He hadn''t come home last night, he hadn't picked up his phone, he hadn't met her at the office; fear crept through her, and she pushed her way through the dense crowd of fairies in the lobby, looking for one in particular.

Not Tracy; no. She knew she wouldn't find him here. She sought Diana, hoping that she would know where her brother was. If anyone knew it was Diana – they were thick as thieves, him and his sisters – and Rae hoped that he'd at least told _someone_ where he was going before he left.

She refused to let herself entertain the idea that he hadn't planned this, that he was hurt somewhere or unable to return home. She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she pushed through the crowds, looking for the familiar yellow tutu and silvery-white wings.

She spotted Rae first, pulling her from the crowd in hopes of asking one very important question. Once they were off to the side, free of the swarms of fairies going obliviously about their day, she looked down at Rae. "Have you heard from Tracy? I tried calling him last night, do you know where he is?" she asked.

The human woman was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words, her head shaking slightly and her eyes wide, shock and fear and grief evident in her features. Her sister-in-law took quickly to this, realizing that her brother was missing, even from his wife, and she regretted asking. She knew Rae's attachment to Tracy was strong, and he'd told her some years ago what catastrophic separation could do.

Her mind raced as Rae began bubbling out her testimony, how he hadn't come home last night, and everything up to that point that had her so thoroughly convinced that something had happened to him. The fairy was concerned as well. This wasn't like her brother, to break schedules and to miss work. For Mab's sake, he tried coming to work the week he broke his shoulder when they were younger.

Diana hushed her, placing a dainty hand at either side of her face and looking her square in the eyes. "Tracy's okay. He's okay. Look," she said, bringing Rae's hand down between them. The fairy gently rubbed a finger across the silver of her wedding band. "It's fine. _He's_ fine." She took her sister-in-law's hands and led her from the desk, knowing there was only one way to settle this.

Dispatch would be able to confirm for her that Tracy had checked in last night, had clocked his time and gone home, had come in early that morning before she'd gotten up, and that everything was fine.

It wasn't that long of a walk to Dispatch. It was a separate office just in the lobby, and she stood with Rae in tow, asking about her little brother, and the fairy behind the desk checked her records.

Rae shuffled uncomfortably, twisting the ring around her finger as the fairy searched through the files, checking to see when Tracy had clocked in. She frowned when she came to the end of the files and checked again. The human girl swallowed thickly, her nervous fidgeting accidentally twisting the ring from her finger. She looked down momentarily to replace it and froze. Her heart sank and she couldn't find her voice for a moment, barely registering as the woman behind the desk said she couldn't findTracy's report in the files, that she'd go check in the back.

"Diana," Rae breathed, her voice wavering. "Diana, _look_."

The fairy turned around to see the woman staring down at the wedding band, her fingers trembling as she cradled it protectively. Diana watched in horror as a thin layer of tarnish spread like a wildfire across the perfect surface of the silver, turning it a murky brown.

Her breathing became shallow and shaky, and Diana led her to have a seat on a step stool that one fairy behind the desk offered. She pressed her lips together, a frown settled on her face. Something was definitely wrong; Tracy was in trouble, but she comforted the shaken woman by telling her that he wasn't _hurt_. It was only tarnish, it just meant he was in trouble, they could help him.

Rae felt tears stinging at her eyes – she didn't even know where he was, and for how long would he be safe? How long did they have before the tarnish turned black, until the chances of him coming home were gone for good?

Diana knelt down and wiped the tears from her face. "Come on, luv," she said, and the inflection of her voice made her cringe. "Come on, we'll find him. No worries. Up you get. We're taking you to Lily's office, we'll get all this sorted out. We'll find him," she said again, and this time Rae could hear the tone of worry in her voice, the obvious notion that she was trying to convince _herself_ came to mind, and Rae's breath hiccuped again.

Fairies passed by in a pastel blur as Diana led her to Lily's office; the older woman was obviously surprised to see the two enter unannounced, even more so to see the state that Rae was in. There was very little, the Fairy Godmother knew, that could put the human woman in such a state. In fact, she'd only seen her like this once – years and years ago, when she was a much younger girl, when Tracy had brought her to Fairy Land, breaking every conceivable rule in the process, and had lost his wings. This struck a certain chord of nervousness in her – for Rae to be so despondent and scared, something had to be terribly wrong. Diana, in less of a state, took Lily to the side and explained the situation. No one knew where he was, no one knew what had become of him, but the ring, the eternal connection between him and his wife, his other half, knew that something had happened to him.

Rae stood there, stunned, and turned to the two women. "His last assignment," she said, quietly. The gears in her head had begun to spin. It was just as she'd been taught as a child: if you were to lose something, you had to retrace your steps in order to find it.

The conversation stopped. "Pardon, luv?" Diana asked.

Her voice came out with more conviction this time. "His last assignment. What was his last assignment?" she became inexplicably angry – not at either of the women in the room with her, but at her own race. He'd been on assignment on The Human Plane. Someone, a _human_, was responsible for her husband's disappearance.

Lily tried to recall. "A home in Westport," she said lightly. "A young boy had lost a tooth. Second one this month. But how will that help us?" she asked. "No doubt Tracy's been removed from the residential area, if they found him in the house."

Rae took the wand from her belt. She rarely used it for the fact that she was still very inexperienced with wielding magic. She could perform simple spells, but preferred the Magic-Generator button over the traditional wands. This did not matter, though. She had one thing in mind when she waved the wand, to the surprised exclamation of the two other women in the room – she was going home, back to The Human Plane.

Back to Mesa.

It was as good as a place as any to start. She knew she needed to be in Westport, Connecticut, but the key to magical transportation was having the ability to visualize your destination. She knew what her home in Mesa looked like, having lived there most of her life. From there, she would make her journey to Westport and find her husband.

She tucked the wand back into her belt, securing it and making sure that no one had seen her spontaneously appear in their back yard.

She knocked on the door.

It was her mother to answer the door, bewildered to see her youngest daughter there, the pure emotion in her eyes a terrifying sign that something was wrong. Her first thought was that Tracy had done something to her. It was what she'd been afraid of ever since Rae had told them that she was living with him in the college dorm. As the years had passed, her suspicion that he was going to hurt her somehow had dwindled into non-existence, but now, as she ushered her distraught daughter into the house, all those fears came to a head once again.

Rae twisted the tarnished ring around her finger, turning to her mother. "I need to get to Westport, Connecticut." Was the first thing out of her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

Tracy panted, trying to catch his breath, locking his jaw and refusing to speak, to ask them to stop. He'd resolved months ago that he would give them the satisfaction of neither his cooperation nor his pleas. He wanted to tell them to stop, that he was just about ready to pass out from the strong smell of the flower – something that didn't seem to have any effect on the humans, though it was making him so dizzy that he'd had to sit down on the cot, and was still ready to faint.

He could barely hear the other men in the room. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, which had become murky. "Ease off, John, it's reacting pretty strongly to the primrose."

"That's the fifth one from that family, think there's a correlation?"

There was a snap of a container and Tracy's head began to clear. He rubbed wearily at his eyes and tried to make out the two blurry figures in front of him. Not having his glasses was bad enough – he'd been told by one of the staff that he'd be given a replacement pair soon, but nothing yet – but the added murkiness his vision had suddenly adopted had rendered him almost blind. He muttered to himself as the two men made to leave the room. One paused, and turned back to him.

"SCP-1594, we're going to leave you alone for a bit, let you 'recover,' before we continue with the evaluation tests. Expect us back in an hour."

Tracy breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally closed behind the two men, leaving him on his own. In the last few weeks, he'd been subjected to all different kinds of organic materials – flowers and herbs and grasses of all sorts, most of which smelled rather nice, or otherwise didn't have any effect on him. But a few that the men had brought with them _did _have an effect on him, and a rather strong one at that. It would be another twenty minutes before his vision returned to him and his head cleared.

He was terrified, but he wouldn't let them know that. He'd learned that showing _fear _meant that they became brazen, that they knew they could control him. He sat up straight and looked directly at them when they came back, something he figured would show them that he was aware and ready for whatever they had to throw at him, though this was far from the truth.

They remained true to their word and reentered his cell approximately an hour later, after Tracy's systems had calmed and he was able to think clearly again. He knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant run; the moment they wheeled their supply cart in through the heavy concrete door, the atmosphere in the room because unbearably heavy, bogging him down and he groaned in annoyance, hauling himself to his feet from the cot.

"Relax, 1594. Turns out we're done for today. These aren't for you, anyway. We brought you something!" he said, pulling from his coat pocket, a pair of plastic-framed glasses, not unlike his own, the ones that had been taken from him upon admittance to the facility. He took them gratefully, regardless of the fact that _his_ glasses had been unjustly confiscated. Frankly, he was just happy to be able to see again.

The prescription wasn't _exactly_ the same – or maybe it was just because he'd gone so long without them – but they corrected his vision, and he could see properly for the first time in half a year.

"And, there's been a few books added to your approved reading list. We couldn't bring much over, not with SCP-213 waiting, but we managed to snag a Nat Geo in the mean time." The younger man said, and reached over the circle to hand it to Tracy, but the fairy was well aware that going near the perimeter of the confinement circle so quickly after recovery would only make him feel worse. He simply stared blankly at the harsh yellow cover. The second man urged his colleague to 'hurry up and just give it the damn book,' and so it was dropped into the circle, a few inches forward from where the man extended it to him.

He tossed the thick magazine into the circle, and it fell to the ground with heavy smack. Tracy could feel the wind it produced whip gently at his ankles. He looked dismally down at it, noticing that it was a National Geographic book, the front cover glorifying a story on some type of bacteria that had been found on another planet, proving extra terrestrial life existed, page ninety-eight. He was uninterested, and merely looked up from the book as the personnel left the room, the heavy concrete door swinging shut behind him.

Tracy sighed as the man left, his eyes travelling downward, back towards the book, and he slid from the cot, stooping to pick it up.

He paused, his fingers brushing the cover of the book, his gaze locked on the floor directly in front of him. The salt mixture was scattered in one part of the circle, the grains having been blown outward by small gust of wind caused by the book hitting the floor. His heart leapt into his throat as he scooped the paper magazine up, looking at the door, which remained closed. He didn't move for several second, eyes scanning the room to make sure he hadn't missed something, to make sure he wasn't being monitored before he edged closer to the ring of salt and began using the edge of the book to scrape it to the side, making a break in the containment ring just big enough for him to step though.

The men and women who worked in this concrete hell weren't very social individuals, at least not with him. He doubted there would be another visit today, and the moment the hallway outside was clear, he'd be able to make a run for it.

Tracy waited for hours, heart racing in his chest at the thought of an escape attempt, before he muscled past the weakened line of salts. When he stepped fully clear of the ring, he felt more relieved than he could ever remember, but this was quickly replaced with a heavy dread, as he realized that he wasn't clear of the woods yet. He still had an entire subterranean facility to navigate, without getting caught.

He moved to the wall, feeling the cool steel beneath his fingers and he turned the handle ever-so quietly. Being a Tooth Fairy had its perks, the learned stealth involved in the job. He opened the door a crack and peeked out, seeing a dark and empty hallway that was lined with cells just like his, nothing but heavy concrete doors visible from the outside. He slipped out, standing dumbly in the middle of the hall for a moment before terror seized him. He couldn't very well go parading around, waving to anyone he saw.

He drew all of his concentration into one thought, a visual of the man he'd talked to upon his arrival in the facility, Dr. Jardon; that was the bloke's name. He felt a shift in the air around him, knowing it had worked, the thin layer of magic in the air redirected to bend the light around him, to shift his appearance and to confuse and trick anyone he'd see on his way out. He felt an odd weight in his chest, the effects of maintaining such a trick. It'd be allright though, as long as he kept his concentration.

Tracy walked through the halls, feeling a little more confident about his escape attempt, reminding himself to keep his mouth shut. Jardon's voice was much deeper than his own, and such a trait did not carry. He walked quickly, noticing the clocks mounted at odd intervals on the walls – he'd waited much longer than he'd thought to begin his escape. Soon, officials would begin filing back into the containment building. Undoubtedly, one would be looking for him. Or worse, he could come face to face with Jardon himself, and then all hell would break loose in the hallways, that was for sure.

His footsteps picked up as he pushed past the double doors leading from the containment building into a long strip of hallway that connected two building complexes.

He'd seen buildings much like this, above ground. Then, the hallway had been suspended between two free-standing buildings, the walls and ceiling made of glass so that one could peer out the oversized windows and gaze down at the world below. He wished that's how it was, he wished he was able to look out a window and see the world below – even if it wasn't _his_ world, it was still a reminder that he was a step closer to freedom.

He pushed violently through the second set of double doors, emerging into the workspace of the scientists who devoted their lives to this hell. It was bustling, not unlike Fairy, and this gave him pause. He had not anticipated so many people, each individual representing a chance for his plans to go horribly wrong.

He shuffled along with the crowd, keeping to himself and making it seem as if he were just looking for someone, when in fact he was looking for a way out. He wondered if any of these people ever left the complex. Surly something this large, this far underground, had to have a dormitory; no sane organization would expect their employees to make such a commute every morning.

He nearly scoffed out loud at the though. These people certainly weren't part of a _sane _organization. Maybe they _did_ commute every morning.

"Jardon!" he heard, and he cringed. A young man was making his way across the crowd towards him, a warm smile on his face. At least he didn't suspect anything was amiss. The man thanked him for meeting him there, though Tracy – _Jardon_ – merely nodded and grunted, adjusting his voice to seem _somewhat_ convincing, as the man in a white lab coat guided him through the thick of people, to a small cafeteria set off from the lobby. He imagined that this was where some in this wing came for a lunch break or coffee, as they were doing, since it was far too small to accommodate more than fifty or seventy five people or so.

Tracy sat dutifully across from the man, who was going on about SCP-312 – atmospheric jellyfish, from the sounds of it – though he wasn't truly listening. The majority of his concentration was being spent on keeping his disguise in working order.

He kept his voice low and deep, mumbling something about the coffee being too hot, when in reality he could have used caffeine more than anything at the moment. He was smarter than that, though, and knew that any spike in energy would effect the disillusionment field around him, effectively ruining his guise.

"Jardon – are you listening?" the man asked, and Tracy snapped his attention back to the conversation.

"O'course," he said, his voice wavering slightly from the lower pitch he'd been using, his accent peeking through as he tried to correct himself. This earned an odd look from the scientist, who opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a siren that screeched over the intercoms throughout the building. Though Tracy was relieved that the man had been distracted from his unusual behavior – rising from the table with a fearful exclamation of "Jesus _Christ_!" – this relief was short lived.

Turning around in his chair, he saw several security guards rushing into the lobby, with an assortment of weaponry. He checked the clock on the wall nearby – nine in the morning, which meant routine cell checks had begun. His heart sank.

They knew.

He came out of his daze when the man hit him lightly on the shoulder, shouting over the sirens. "Come on, Jardon ,don't just _sit_ there, for God's sake, there's an Euclid-" he man stopped, looking down into Tracy's – Jardon's – face, stunned for a moment before stumbling backwards, swearing loudly.

He wasted no time, hearing the man's cries from behind him, "It's Jardon, whatever it is, it looks like Jardon!" as he ran, shoving through the crowd of stunned officials, his heart racing in his chest, making a frantic bid to escape, just as he was.

He made it out of the small cafeteria and zipped around the divider wall that sectioned it off, pushing against the crowd, his sights set on one doorway at the end of the lobby.

He felt bad that he was knocking so many people out of the way, innocent passerby who had hardly even woken up so early in the morning, but he reminded himself that they were all part of the reason he was here, all involved with the foundation, all dangerous, and he just kept going.

There was a stinging pain in his gut.

He'd run straight towards one of the security officers who had been unarmed at the moment, who had thought quickly and grabbed the first thing available – an iron skillet from the cafeteria kitchen – and jumped the divider wall, already ahead of Tracy by the time he'd made it around, out of the small eatery.

Tracy doubled over, the pan held firmly to his midsection, and he gasped for breath. He could feel the touch of the iron burn him though his clothes, and his muscles seized; he had a hard time breathing as the officer stood over him, turned him over, keeping the pan beneath him and pinned his arms behind his back, pushing his face into the rough carpet as he slowly suffocated.

His heart raced in his chest, the lack of oxygen and rush of adrenaline making him start to black out, and he fought to keep consciousness. There was a swarm of personnel around him as his vision went black, the pan being retched from underneath him as he passed out.

A man watched from off to the side, seeing the creature hauled limply through the lobby, back to his containment cell. It was a shock, to see the guise of a colleague disappear before his eyes, replaced by the fairy's lanky frame, his pallor cheeks and the dark circles underneath his eyes.

That was SCP-1594? The man was more than a little surprised. To meet it on the streets, he wouldn't have known it from any normal man. He supposed that's why it was an Euclid. But still, seeing an entire security team conspire to bring down something that looked so _human_…

Something squirmed uncomfortably inside of him when he thought of the look of fear that had occupied the man's – the fairy's expression for the few seconds before it was brought to the ground, incapacitated and unable to breathe. It struck a nerve with him, and he resolved to meet with SCP-1594 later, once they'd cleared the cell for visitation again.

Given the level of the security breech, the fact that the fairy had almost made it to Security Ring Beta, this wouldn't be for some time.

Tracy woke up some hours later, feeling sick and weak, face down on the stark white concrete floor of his cell.

His stomach hurt beyond belief, and he was sure it would be weeks before the skin healed, even despite the protection of his clothes. He rolled onto his side, moaning at the pain. His limbs shook as he tried to haul himself up onto the cot, which had been bolted into the floor, the blanket removed, as well as the magazine.

He fell back heavily into the curve of the cot, gingerly lifting his shirt to examine the injury, which had left a wide mark resembling an old burn, a welt that covered most of his stomach, and which would remain for the rest of his life. He groaned heavily, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

She collapsed onto the bed, cold and slightly damp smelling. She'd travelled the state of Nevada, city by city, looking for an affirmation of Site-17. She was worn, physically and mentally, and she didn't know what to do. She'd been searching for nearly seven months, usually spending a week in each city, researching and planning and hoping to find more information on her husband's whereabouts; this was her thirty-fifth city – for a state that was comprised of so much desert, she couldn't believe it was taking this long.

She had to be stronger than this, she thought bitterly as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had to stop her tears and just keep out there somewhere, and she needed to find him. She needed him.

Rae had been given a job transfer the moment she took off to find him. Diana had called her cellular not long after she made it to The Human Plane, telling her that Lily put her on as a Special Operations fairy, to keep her job and fund her search. Rae had been astounded at Lily's decision. Special Operations fairies were well trained specialists who often shared skills learned by a human S.W.A.T. team. For her to so willingly put Rae on the official search-and-rescue, case, to lend her a helping hand was Lily's way of saying that she had faith in Rae's ability to help her husband escape her own people. In truth, _that_ is what gave her the most confidence, was knowing that these were her people. She grew up and spent most of her life on The Human Plane. She knew how they acted, how they worked – despite her marriage, the connection forged through it, her aging process slowed, she was still human. She was one of them.

She sniffled slightly, playing the thought over and over in her head. She was one of them. She was one of them, who had taken her husband in the dark, who had torn him from everything he knew, and who held him against his will, who was doing God-knows-what to him day after day. She was one of them.

It was not something she was proud of.

She stretched herself out, settling down into the bed. She was to leave tomorrow, to go to the next city, a remote town in the middle of the desert, and she needed her sleep. She hadn't had a proper sleep in days, and only then because she'd been so overwhelmed by exhaustion. The bed was cold, it always was without him next to her. She missed him so much. She missed his warmth, his weight beside her, his quiet half-asleep muttering. She missed being able to reach over and grab his hand or place a kiss to his forehead or be kissed herself. She missed being able to snuggle into his chest and have him wrap his arms reflexively around her; she missed being able to know that he was beside her, safe and sound. She missed _him_.

She ripped her thoughts away from Tracy, knowing that she was only going to hurt herself further by thinking of him. She'd have plenty of time to think about him when they were both safe, back home.

Once she was settled, as comfortable as she could be without him, she closed her eyes, drifting off into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The man walked right in, avoiding the fine line of mixed salt. No employee was to tamper with the containment circle, after the specimen's little trick last week. The fairy tensed as the man approached him, bracing himself to have to fight, eyeing the work apparel, keeping an eye on his hands. The man seemed to keep the same attitude towards Tracy, but leaned casually against the wall. "How long have you been here?" he didn't give an answer. The worker looked at him for a moment, pulling absently at his collar. "Fair enough. No real reason to want to talk to me. They told me how you stopped talking, anyway. Don't know what I expected." He chuckled, reaching into his pants pocket. The fairy flinched, staggering back, hyperaware. "I'm not gonna hurt you, buddy. Just thought you'd like this back," he said, spreading his palm for the fairy to see.

He looked between the man's face and his outstretched hand, and the silver wedding band sitting in his palm. Craig moved forward for him, and he took it hastily, slipping it back on and cradling it protectively, looking up, wide eyed at his visitor, who was watching interestedly. "You married?" he asked, and Tracy nodded gently. The man was surprised to receive this little bit of confirmation. "Sorry to hear that." He said finally, "Your wife's probably worried sick."

That was the last thing that Tracy needed to hear. He collapsed into the cot again, shaking. Rae had been the only thing on his mind for the last few weeks. He didn't want to think about how worried she was, but the little bit of broken sleep that he got was filled with thoughts and dreams of her, sitting up dutifully as she did when he worked a particularly late shift. The only difference was that this time, he wasn't coming home.

"Listen," the man said suddenly, startling Tracy out of his thoughts, thankfully. "Do you want me to… contact her, somehow? You can tell me, how to get in touch with her? Tell her you're not… hurt, or anything. A phone number? Address?"

He looked up suddenly, snarling at the man. He might not have been human, but that didn't make him _stupid_. Damned if this man thought he was going to get any where near his wife. His expression hardened as he stood. "Thanks for the ring mate, but you can leave now," he hissed, towering over the man, who raised his palms in a sign of surrender, his expression one of wild shock.

"Okay!" he agreed. 'Okay. Listen, I didn't mean anything by it. I'll go now, but uh…" he held a hand out for him to take; the fairy didn't move. "I'm Craig," the worker offered, taking his hand back and turning to leave. When he'd reached the outer arc of mixed-salt perimeter, the captive spoke up.

"Tracy," he said, watching the man as he nodded in acknowledgement, walking off.

Craig had never felt _sympathy_ for any of the creatures at the facility before. For the most part, they were monsters, demons from other dimensions that had leaked into the humans' world, who did not know that they did not belong there – many of them were not even sentient, self aware. But this man was.

_This man_. SCP-1594 was a man. Not simply humanoid in appearance, as his file stated. This man had a wife and family, possibly kids, on another plane of existence, and they had effectively abducted him, no reason other than he was different, even though he claimed to be a Tooth Fairy, a part of society that was never second-guessed for the sake of the children, and _here he was_. It was a dismal thought, how everything had turned sour for this man, who was only doing his job.

Walking down the cell hall, back to the main lobby, Craig made a decision: he'd help SCP-1594 – _Tracy_. He'd help Tracy however he could, whether that meant protecting him from some of the more unconcerned scientists, the young, arrogant kids just out of Grad school, or simply being a friendly face, someone who didn't treat him like an animal or an object.

The man's cellular rang, and he fished it out of his pocket, traversing the long underground hallway between the two buildings. "Yeah," he spoke loudly, being the only one in the hall.

The voice that came over the other end was that of his superior, Jessica Biggs. She wanted him to come back to the main lobby, first floor, and take care of some applications for a new recruit who said she had experience in the brand of magic SPC-1594 operated on. The girl had a major in chemistry and a minor in business, fresh out of college, so they thought she could be a useful addition to the 1594 team.

He scoffed when he hung up the phone, only half way down the hall with his new instructions. _Useful._ He was sure she'd be as useful as the trans-dimensional generator they'd found last year. All it did was split reality, and _no one_ needed that. There'd been plenty of incidents already with split reality.

But he went dutifully to the upper lobby to meet this girl – must have been patient as a saint, because it took him nearly a half an hour to get up there from the subterranean cells, and when he did, he was not ashamed to say that he was less than enthralled with how the day had gone so far. This girl was being put onto Tracy's file?

Fine by him, but she'd have to be spectacular.

He sat down at the desk, in front of the girl with short brown hair who was absently gazing at a photo on the wall; it was a very well known photo, though those who knew it – a picture of five or six hunters holding up a bat the size of a small man – did not know that the men in the picture were all agents of SCP. She redirected her attention to him when he sat in front of her; he extended his hand and she completed the gesture, shaking warmly. "Good afternoon. I'm Craig Rundy. You are?"

She looked at him, wide eyed as the corners of her lips turned up slightly. "I'm Rae."


	6. Chapter 6

Tracy lie awake at night, often, too worried to get the proper night's sleep that his body so desperately needed. He'd get broken segments of sleep, sure, but it was never enough by the morning to say that he had truly rested.

It was a terrible thing, really, because the tests persisted. If anything, they became more intense as time passed. They were slowly adjusting him to the brutal ways of the facility, and he could feel his humanity slipping away with every test, every scalpel taken to his skin, every element he was exposed to, every vial of blood taken from him. He was worn out, and they weren't going to stop until they wore him out completely, until they used every last bit of him they could.

He wondered if they'd ever stop; he wondered when they would say 'we have enough' and leave him in peace, to remain as part of their vast collection, a zoo animal. He wondered if anyone even knew all these creatures were down here, or if there were any magical beings thought to be extinct. So many magical creatures were on the verge of extinction – did they have any here, locked away to be picked apart whenever they felt like it? Did they _know_ that the creatures they held could help rebuild a species? Did they _care_?

No, he thought dismally. They didn't care. He hadn't quite figured out the motives of this monstrous organization, but if they were truly fascinated by the magical world, they would have taken measures to help it – studying it was all fine and well, but what use was the knowledge when all they were going to do was keep the creatures locked away in concrete cages?

He wondered what would become of _him_. He didn't have a doubt that the foundation's plans for him were to keep him here, to 'research' him until the day he died, but those were hardly his aspirations. He berated himself constantly for making such a dumb mistake with his escape plan last month. Everything could have gone so smoothly – he could have been home by now if he hadn't let that man stop him to chat about _jellyfish_. He could have been home with Rae, he could have hushed her worry and held her again, but he'd let himself get careened away from his goal.

His thoughts drifted away from his mistakes and to his wife. He looked longingly at the ring, his hand splayed out before him as he lay on the cot. He hoped she was okay.

He knew she was okay. The fact that his ring remained bright silver told him so. She wasn't in any danger, but even with this reassurance, he couldn't help wonder if she was thinking about him. Was she worried about him? Of course she was, he thought bitterly to himself. Of course she was.

He wondered who else knew he was missing. No doubt he'd been missed at work. You don't just not show up for seven months and it go unnoticed. He heaved a sigh, twisting the ring off of his finger to see the engraving on the inside. It was in Old Fairy; it read 'Love Endures All Things.' Rae was living proof of this, the three years where she didn't even remember who he _was_, and they were still alright in the end.

They always were, and that's what kept him hoping.

She closed her eyes.

It'd been more than a half a year since she'd started her solo search, unable to contact authorities to help look for him. What would she have told them? "My husband's six-nine, blonde, and a _fairy_." Somehow she didn't see that going over so well at the station. So she'd set off on her own, armed with sheer determination and a slip of paper given to her by the woman who lived at the address of Tracy's last assignment.

When she'd rung the doorbell, a young mother was the last thing she'd expected. She looked tired and her children were a little more than shy, and the way that they hid behind their mother when she asked the woman where she needed to report for a job transfer, working on the Tooth Fairy Project, told her that this was where Tracy had been taken from. It hurt to see the children so terrified at the mere _mention_ of her husband. He would never hurt them, but they'd been conditioned in the last few weeks to think that they'd had a near-death experience at the hands of a fairy who had sneaked into their bedroom. This was not how a generation of belief was perpetuated; she was grateful that not all parents were like this woman, who was so obviously resentful of the work Tracy did, or else their home would have ceased to exist long ago.

But with a smile, she lied, and received the information on Site-17, the designated name for the containment facility where they were holding 'the creature.' Anger boiled in her blood when she called him that, as if to make her actions, _their_ actions, of dragging him away from his world, of keeping him against his will, more acceptable by stripping him of his humanity, just because he wasn't _human_.

But she kept her friendly façade up, relieved to finally have information about her husband's whereabouts, thanking the tired-looking woman and retreating to her car, which was parked in front of the house, on the curb.

But that had been more than half a year ago. She was no closer to him now than on that day, and as she lay down that night, a hollow feeling in her chest blossomed. She was no stranger to this sensation; it had often consumed her in the last few months, when things seemed at a stand-still, and she usually remedied it by crying herself to sleep.

That night was no different, save for the fact that, tomorrow, she wouldn't have to waste the night away in a lonely motel room, wondering where she was going to end up next, what town her search for Tracy would bring her to. This time, come morning, she _would_ be one step closer to him. The tears were warm on her cheeks, but she smiled as she closed her eyes, brushing her thumb across the underbelly of the still-tarnished wedding band.

She'd have him back, soon.


	7. Chapter 7

Rae had seemed adamant about wanting the job. There were stacks of paperwork, of course, contracts about secrecy, insurance waivers, proof of residence, applications that needed to be filled out for dormitory housing, and a mess of things Craig never bothered to remember why they needed to be signed. It was all far too tedious to commit to memory, and he wasn't even sure if Biggs had it down perfectly.

The application process was a long one, and then there was a six week period between submission and confirmation. Biggs was more or less in charge of any new recruits, and judging from how she talked about Rae, he was almost certain that she got the job.

Craig was less than pleased when the woman showed up for her first day of training. She seemed terrified of everything – the exact opposite of the demeanor one would need in this line of work. For God's sake, she was jittery around the _people_. He sighed heavily and led her to the stockroom, to get her a lab coat. Sure, it seemed trivial, but the coats were lined with a protective layer on the inside. Many of the creatures contained at Site-17 _were _actually dangerous. Of course, Tracy wasn't one of them, to his knowledge. He was just desperate. But the lab coats actually protected the workers from many creatures – some that spit acid, some that emit dangerous gasses (though in this case, full-body protection was more preferable), and a colorful array of other tricks and talents.

As they walked, he asked her questions. Simple things, most of which she'd answered in the application form, but he didn't get to read. Where are you from, how'd you hear of us, why Site-17, so on and so forth. When they reached the storage room, he turned to her. "Why fairies?" he asked.

Rae was silent for a moment, registering the question. "Why not fairies?" she said lightly. "New field, no research done, new specimen. From what I've heard so far, he's fairly submissive. He's no threat."

The man gave pause at this. Her voice, her conviction was so strong when she said that he wasn't a threat. His eyebrows arched up his forehead. "Who told you that?" he asked. Of course he knew it was true, but for _her_ to know it was true was pretty impressive. Not on the job a day and she knew more about her subject than most of his colleagues did.

"From what I've heard, of course. Around the place." She sputtered.

"Uh-huh… Welcome to the team, then," Craig said. "Here's to hoping you don't have any compassion." The man's voice was flat and humorless. Rae shifted uncomfortably, mind racing at the thought of the things done to the creatures here – the things done to her _husband_ – that would require her to be so heartless.

She stood there, nervous as he thumbed through some lab coats, looking for one her size. She brought her hands together, twisting the tarnished silver band around her finger. It had become something of a habit, and the feeling of the cool metal on her fingers calmed her. He turned back to her, having found a satisfactory size, and looked down at her hands, staring at the ring for a moment before he looked back up, meeting her eyes. "You married?" he asked.

She clutched her hand compulsively, covering the silver. "No," she breathed. "It's a promise ring. From my boyfriend." Lying about it hurt, carved a hole in her chest and twisted her insides, and she found she had to bite back tears at the thought of the ring, her last connection with Tracy, having come from someone else.

"Course it is," he said lightly. "All right. We've got a very, uh… _interesting_ addition to the archives, that fairy." He searched her face for any sign of significance in his words. "People around here call him SCP-1594, but his name's Tracy."

"Okay," she said, sounding convincingly nonchalant, as she shrugged the coat on, but he could see her tracing the bottom of the ring with her thumb.

"Says he's married," he said, sounding as if he were trying to make conversation. "And he's got a ring."

Rae froze, lowering her arms and pulling the sleeve of the coat further down to cover her hands. "That's weird," she said. "Signs of… of social structure. Good to know."

Craig nodded. "It is. And you know what's even weirder?" he asked, and he locked the coat rack back up, dropping the key into the small concave shelf that jutted from its side. Rae didn't answer, but had gone still next to him. His voice continued to hold a lilt of casualty, not indicating he had any malicious intent, but Rae knew better than to trust it.

"What?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Looks exactly like yours." He said, pointing vaguely to her ring hand; he heard her breath hitch and she braced herself. He wasn't going to do anything to her, but spread his palms and gave her some friendly advice, pointing to the ring. "It's got to go. Because 'promise ring' won't fly with them. People here don't understand. They don't care if he's your husband. To them, he's just something to study. You let them see that ring, and pretty soon you'll be, too. Here." he removed a gold chain from around his neck, handing it to her and letting her string it through the ring, fastening the chain around her neck and letting the silver ring drop down her shirt, well concealed. She felt it on her chest, heavy and cold, and tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I just want him back," she choked. "Is he okay?"

Craig heaved a sigh. "He's fine. He's _miserable_, but he's not hurt."

Rae pressed her lips together, the weight of the situation hitting her full force and overwhelmed by the fact that this man, a complete stranger, was willing to risk his job to help her. "He can't… he can't let them _know_. What if – if – if he…" she stopped, working herself into a frenzy. Craig wrapped an arm around her shoulders and calmed her. He knew that this would be hard for her, her husband caged like an animal in a magical menagerie, and her powerless to help him at _least_ until they gave her Euclid clearance. He knew the man wasn't dangerous, and felt pity for him on a whole new level – if he hadn't tried to escape his confinement and earned himself true Euclid status, he would have been classified as Safe after so long, and he would have been able to see his wife.

He could tell she was scared. She didn't know how this place worked, and he hadn't a doubt in his mind that she thought that her husband's life was in danger.

He gently reassured her that he was safe, that they wouldn't hurt him. He was the only fairy specimen they'd managed to capture, and as awful as it sounded, they wouldn't want to risk losing him; he was too valuable.

She shuddered at the thought of her husband in solitary confinement, and she could all but cry for him, poked and prodded and gawked at during such a dark time. She took a deep shaky breath, steadying herself as Craig turned to open the door. "Can I… ask a favor?" she whispered. "Tell him… tell him I'm coming. Please. Let him know it's going to be okay."

He moaned unhappily at the woman's request. The man had worked with SCP for a long time, and he knew how overzealous The Foundation could be when working with a living specimen. It wasn't unusual for them to test a creature to death, to push its limits or make a fatal error in evaluation experimentation. However, for both their sakes, he kept that knowledge to himself, trusting that his colleagues would be more careful with their new fairy, seeing as how Tracy was the only one any of them had ever come in contact with, the only one the foundation had to research, and so much was still to be learned about him and his species. The evaluation experimentation was over with; they'd found enough solid evidence of substances that could be used to subdue him, knew what not to give him, knew what could hurt him, and he was confident that no one would go out of their way to do him harm.

The SCP was a research foundation, not an institution of torture, though he was sure that Tracy and Rae thought differently at the moment. In honesty, it wasn't all that often that a living being was brought into the compound, whether that be because of the various facilities scattered across the globe, or because living creatures were harder to catch than objects, he wasn't sure, but a part of him wanted to argue that the Foundation simply didn't know how to handle Tracy. It wasn't often that they caught living creatures; it was even more of a rarity when they were able to procure something like Tracy, something almost human, who had a complex thought process and who, above all things, spoke English.

They'd been enthralled when Tracy had started making intelligent arguments about why they needed to let him go home; of course, this had only persuaded the staff to keep him, solidifying his fate at the facility and in turn, convincing him to keep to himself, to become as withdrawn as he had in the first few months.

"I wish I could." He said. "But if you want to get out of here, both of you _alive_, he can't know. If he knows, it'll show. I'm not the only guy who works with him, and if someone sees—"

Rae nodded stiffly. She understood. She'd rather them both wait out the misery a little bit longer than put his safety at risk. They left the storage room, Craig leading her back to the lobby and explaining to her how she would have to put in a level transfer evaluation request after two months or so on the Safe level.

Rae groaned inwardly. There were at least _six_ more weeks between her and her husband. But once she was granted Euclid clearance, they were leaving.

She put a hand at her collar, feeling the band beneath the cloth of her shirt, and sighed.

It was going to be a long six weeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Rae lay in bed that night, in one of the dormitories in the compound, half-propped up against the back of her bed, alone. This was the only time when she was willing to take the wedding ring out from the protection of her shirt, in the privacy of her own room. She held it up to the light, the murky brown of the tarnish pulling at her heart strings.

He was here, and he was safe, and that was all that mattered. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of seeing him again; she'd missed him so much since her wandering, looking for Site-17, had begun.

She rubbed at the tarnish, wishing it would come off, wishing that he were lying next to her. She had to keep hoping. She had to tell herself that now she had found him, that it wouldn't be long before she was back with him and that they _would_ make it out. Rae had spent many a restless night lying awake, fearful for her husband, not knowing what was to come next for him, comforted only by the fact that the tarnish remained light. She wished he knew that she was there, that she was looking for him. She wished he knew that everything was going to be okay, but any inkling of change in his behavior could mean being caught, being found out and taken farther from her husband.

She dreaded to think just what her plans could mean for him, if something went wrong. From what Craig had told her,Tracy had made a bid for freedom two months ago, before she'd arrived on the compound. He'd told her how they'd taken extra security to fortify his containment ring and ensure that he wouldn't escape again. She'd been given an idea of what would happen if he were to make another failed attempt; the consequences could possibly be much more severe than having his 'approved reading list' terminated. She knew the foundation had sufficient means of hurting him. Craig had told her of the stores kept to subdue each creature. Any scientist working in his division could easily take any number of substances and torment him with them. The man had already warned her of the iron burs he'd sustained; it hurt her heart to know that he'd been abused, beaten into submission. She wanted to help him. She entertained the idea of going to him then, at that very moment, when the cell halls were empty and everyone asleep, but the fear of putting him in ganger froze her from the inside out.

Too often she'd succumbed to her thoughts, her own dreadful fancies and theories, to the point where her emotions raged for hours. She'd pull the covers tighter around her shoulders and begin to tremble, drawing her knees to her chest and feeling the tears spill forth. It was too much, and she fought not to let herself fall into that routine.

She sniffled, having subdued the tears before the hold clawing at her chest could get the better of her, lifting the ring on its chain from its resting place on her chest and looking it over in the soft lamplight.

The inside of her ring was engraved, as was his. It was in Old Fairy, and she had memorized the phrase, her language skills still a little spotty. But she knew what it said. It was half of the phrase, his ring protecting the other half. She ran her finger across the small symbols on the inside of the ring; 'And Will Always Find You.'

She knew it was true. Just as she and Tracy had found each other, time and again, she knew they would find each other this time.

He dreaded another test run. It was nothing too dangerous, not as of yet at least, but the materials that they used on him wore him out, and having lived off of cream and sugar for the last year, he didn't exactly have much energy to spare for their experimentation. They often had to leave him alone for days at a time, allowing him to regain his strength and occasionally offering him more substantial sustenance, some dense bread or meat if he was particularly slow to recover.

That was the thing about fairies – they were able to survive on so little. Little sleep, little food, little hope, true, but it was enough to get him by. There was always that one ray of hope, that his ring was still bright silver, never tarnished or rusted, and that Rae was alright.

He had lost weight since his stay in The Facility, and with his already slight frame, some of the scientists had become concerned, worrying that if they didn't ease up and let him rest, they might lose their only specimen.

If that ring ever rusted, they might anyway. _That_ was what kept him going, was the thought that she was still okay, she was safe at home and Mab forbid he never went back, she would be taken care of. She'd have a home, she'd have a job, she'd have his family to help her without him. Another part of him knew that she would not feel at home in Fairy Land without him. He prayed that she would adjust, or go home to her family, to her own kind, and live happily there.

He missed her terribly. Even the worst situations could be made better knowing that he had her to go home to at the end of the day, to hold in his arms and have her tell him everything would be okay, but he didn't even have that. Here, he had nothing. Even his dignity was being siphoned from him, day by day, as he was subjected to their poking and prodding.

They'd taken everything from him, but his ring was returned, and the rest he could more or less do without. His pin, his cellular, his watch – all had been removed before he'd regained consciousness on the first night. He tried not to think about what else they'd done to him while he was under. His back burned when he moved the wrong way, and he'd found a very thin, very well-concealed incision scar on his chest, running down his sternum. He hadn't said anything about it, having little doubt that they'd taken the opportunity to examine his body more thoroughly. The thought was enough to make him sick, though he was reassured that the feeling would pass after a few days, once he became accustomed to the ring he was contained by. He knew his nausea had nothing to do with the ring of salt.

The color left his face and his fingers, gripping the edges of the cot, and he began to tremble. He was due for a personnel visit and no one had stopped by his cell. After so long, after knowing what to expect from these people, he found it absolutely terrifying when they broke their routine. The door opened; Craig was there, which calmed his fears a little at first. He was possibly the only man in the entire compound that understood that Tracy wasn't a common animal, and whom at least _tried_ to treat him with some respect. At least having Craig there was a relief, but it was the _other_ white clad figure, standing just outside his cell, who unnerved him so. It was obviously a woman, her straight brown hair falling at her shoulders and her frame _very_ familiar. Only Craig entered the room, and Tracy didn't move, merely content to stare back at her for a few seconds from his place on the cot.

It was _Rae_, it had to be her. He couldn't be imagining it, and he fought the urge to rush to her. She remained as stoic as if she were observing mindless fish in a tank, looking him up and down, scrutinizing him, summing him up as if she truly were there to contain and research him. Her gaze fell on his hand, his ring finger and the silver band that decorated it. His own eyes flickered to her hand, searching for the glint of metal that would undoubtedly send a wave of relief through him. Left hand, ring finger…

It was bare. His heart sank, confused and shocked when he saw that her wedding band was gone. He wanted to cry out to her, ask her where it had gone, why wasn't she wearing it, but he kept to himself, unsure. Perhaps so long of being confined on his own, of the sleepless nights and the endless worry, were finally getting to him.

His thoughts were cut short as the concrete door swung closed, stealing the woman from his sight.

If it was her, he clung to the idea that her wedding ring had been taken by the staff, just as his had. He clung to the idea that she'd get it back soon, that he'd be able to _see_ the connection again, the physical reminder that no matter how awful things seemed in this cinder block hell, that she was still there _for him_. He clung to the idea that it was _her_, at all.

The worker carried a small Tupperware with a clear gel inside. Tracy had stopped reacting violently when someone entered the cell, and looked up curiously as the man crossed the containment ring, holding the Tupperware out to him.

"What's this?" he asked, hauling himself to his feet and taking the container, removing the lid and dipping a finger into the petroleum-jelly-like substance. It was a little thicker than petroleum jelly, and smelled strongly of mint. He rubbed his fingers together, spreading the sticky gel. He'd seen stuff like this before, but never on The Human Plane – only back home.

He jerked a thumb back towards the door, where his colleague waited. "New girl made it for you; It's for the—"

"For the iron burns. Yeah," he finished thoughtfully, replacing the lid. Where the gunk touched his skin, he felt a sudden, soothing cool, and he couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his lips. It was a comfort, to have something, a household remedy, so familiar to him. It was the first reminder of home in over a year, and the strong smell, the cooling touch of the jelly, took the tension from his shoulder as he set the small container on his cot, spreading what was left of the stuff on his fingers onto his open palm, where the salt and iron burn from months and months ago still stood out on his skin, feeling a pleasant cool spread through his hand. He looked up at Craig, who had his hands in his coat pockets, grinning. "This 'new girl'… how'd she…?"

The man shrugged. "She's had some work in Wicca and Alchemy – or at least that's what it said on her application. Studied fairy lore for ten years. Turns out we know a lot more about you than we thought." He chuckled.

Even Tracy couldn't help but let a weak laugh past his lips, which surprised Craig, and he spoke up. "Do you think you could bring her in here?" he asked. Never did he want to meet new scientists; more often than not, new scientists meant new procedure and experiments. But this woman, who had so kindly mixed him the salve for the burns and pains he'd endured in the last year, he wanted to thank her. A small, guilty voice in the back of his head told him that that was not the reason he wanted to see her. The reason was completely self-serving. He just wanted a better look at her, to tell if it really was Rae or not.

The man gave a groan, and Tracy's smile fell. "Sorry, buddy. Libby's not cleared for Euclids. Not _your type_, at least. Trust me, she's more than eager for you two to meet. To her, you're just plenty of research. In the mean time, _that's_ got clearance to be here, so you don't have to worry about it being confiscated."

The fairy sighed again and sat down, his visitor following suit. That was all he needed to hear. _Libby_. It wasn't her. He hadn't gotten a very good look at her, but he was sure, now, that he was just too desperate. He wanted so badly to see his wife that he'd been imagining things. Craig shifted guiltily, bringing him from his thoughts. "If you could tell her one thing, what would it be? Your wife, I mean."

Tracy heaved a sigh; he didn't want to thing about this right now, he didn't want to think about how utterly far _away_ she was. "I don't know, mate," he said lamely. Truth was, there was so _much_ that he wished he could say to her, and he tried so, _so_ hard not to think about it. While the thought of her, safe at home, is what kept him going, the idea that she was alone and scared for him tore through his chest, leaving an icy dread behind, and he fought that off every minute of the day. This was the last thing he wanted to think about.

"C'mon, just think. What would you tell her?" he pushed, leaning forward away from the wall. This was the least destructive way to facilitate some degree of communication between the two, but it wouldn't work if he didn't cooperate.

Tracy leaned his head back against the rail of the cot. "I'd tell her I love her," he said gently, and Craig could hear his voice crack. "I'd tell her to – to go home." He forced the words out, feeling sick at hearing himself say it out loud. "Back to her family, in Mesa. She's… she's a human, and she doesn't belong in Fairy Land… _alone_. I'd tell her to start over."

The tone of his words sent a chill down the man's spine, and for a moment, he had difficulty finding his own voice. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Given up, have you?"

Tracy lifted his head, looking coolly at the worker, who could see that the fairy, after months of confinement, of being treated as a common prisoner and lab rat – the fairy that was the first creature in the history of the foundation to make an intelligent attempt at escape – had finally been broken. "What else is there to do?" he said.

Craig stood, crossing the circle and hauling Tracy to his feet. "Hang in there, buddy." He said, clasping his friend's hand firmly in his own. "There's got to be something better on the horizon." He said, turning and striding quickly from the room.

He stood there, still confined to the circle, staring down at his open palm, at the small slip of slick paper that he'd left behind. It was old and worn, but preserved, the fold lines carefully gone over, so as not to create new creases. His spindly fingers unfolded the paper slowly. There was a single line written, taking up the space from one end of the sheet to the next, scrawled in a familiar cursive. The man's breath hitched as he looked down at it, reading the text over and over:

_"Knocking 'em dead. –Tracy_"

His mind and heart raced – how had Craig gotten a hold of this? He began to call out, concentrating all the energy left in his body, trying to be heard through the thick concrete, but thought better of it, clamping his jaw shut and clutching the paper close to his chest.

Tracy was never one to bring attention to himself, but now it was so important that he remain unremarkable, to behave and not make it seem to the other scientists as if anything were amiss. He ventured a glance at his ring, his heart rate slowing when he saw the perfect silver surface. He swallowed thickly. However Craig had gotten the note he'd left Rae all those years ago, she was safe; she wasn't in any danger, and he took solace in this fact, trusting their connection, and stuck the folded paper into his shirt, a small pocket just inside his lapel. He settled back into the cot, sitting up and resting his elbows at his knees.

The paper seemed to burn against his skin, and he itched to take it out, to hold it in his hands. Even if he had written it, it was still _hers_, and he cherished that, after being away from her for so long. True, there had been longer stretches of time they'd been separated. Tracy dreaded to recall what she'd told him about the three years of ugly heartbreak, where she'd been plunged into amnesia; fear gripped him to think of her falling victim to the same bout of horrible emotions, and he sought comfort in the fact that she had healed, that she knew he loved her and that he would never willingly leave her like this. He knew that these would protect her, but he also knew that fear and grief and loneliness were the worst causes, the most powerful pains, and could do any number of things to her.

He sighed, lying back into the have been a magical being, but in no way did he have the ability to see what was to come. He, like most fairies, had the ability to augment his appearance, to render himself invisible for a short period of certain that he would not be able to manage such feats, not now. After nearly a year, he simply hadn't the strength.

Many days of late,Tracy did not even have the strength to fight the pairs of scientists who occasionally came to take blood, draining him of life and the little bit of magic that still flowed through his veins.

It was a small reprieve, that he now had the supply of salve; at the very least, it relieved the pain caused by the routine checks and tests when he applied it to his various injuries. If it were made correctly, it might even put some magic back into his system, though he doubted it would. Not many humans knew how to make it – the fact that this woman, who ever she was, had managed to even give it the pain-numbing effects it was supposed to have was remarkable, and he commended her for her studies, her skill, and her kindness. It may not have seemed like much to her at the time, but he knew that the jelly was going to come in useful, especially for the injuries he's sustained around the time of his escape attempt.

He would survive – at a little over a year, he'd learned that the staff did not want to see him dead. He was their only fairy. Their only means of study, and to lose him would mean taking a loss. He became confident that they would let him live, even if it meant being worked within an inch of death. He could manage, he could survive, he could keep going. He had to, for her.

He hoped Craig was right.

Something better needed to be on the horizon.

He'd been doing this for far too long, and he was all but ready to give up, to submit to the foundation completely and accept whatever they were going to do with him. This small slip of paper was hope, for him. As the day wore on, he found himself more and more aware of the slip of paper in his lapel.

No one came to do any tests that day. It was the second Thursday in the month, which meant that he was permitted to rest, to recover from the last few weeks of them taking from him. Craig had been a visitor, not a researcher. Still, he was lonely, consumed by confused feelings involving the slip.

He sighed and lay back, holding the paper up to the light to read. The sheet was glossed, but relatively thin, and held up to the constant fluorescent light, he saw a dark blotch on the back, something he hadn't noticed this morning, when Craig had handed it to him. He frowned and turned it over in his hands. It was small, compressed handwriting in black ink. His breath caught instantly and he choked back laughter. He was certain this hadn't been there before – he knew _he_ didn't write it – and he told himself that he recognized the handwriting. It was _Rae's_. He bolted to a sitting position in his cot, swinging his legs over the side. It was one word: Tonight.

It made his heart race. 'Tonight' what? He looked down at his ring; if there was ever a time to understand his wife, it would have been then, but he was afraid to jump to any conclusions. He wanted to cal out, to call for her or Craig, but he knew it would be useless.

'Tonight.' What about tonight? He thought hard, staring down at the distraught, unable to grasps what Rae wanted from him.

He couldn't help but think that Rae was close. He wanted her to be, he wanted there to be hope. He couldn't explain how Craig had gotten a hold of the paper, because he had himself convinced that his hope was just that – hope. He hoped that she was coming for him (at the same time hoping she stayed far away.) He hoped that she was safe, that they would be back together again. He hoped he hadn't been mistaken earlier, when that woman had stood, waiting for Craig—

Little things all began to click into place. Rae was playing with fire. She was, indeed, here. She was the girl, Libby, who he'd seen standing outside his cell earlier. She was the one who had made the salve – Of course she was! He was the one who had _taught_ her that recipe! The thought filled him with a terrible excitement. His stomach did nervous somersaults inside of him; he didn't _want_ her to be there, in this hell, this dangerous facility where, if anyone learned she was conspiring to save him—

He stared down at the slip. Tonight.

They were leaving tonight.

They were leaving _now_.


	9. Chapter 9

Tracy swallowed thickly and moved from the cot, slipping to the floor; he inched towards the perimeter of the circle, crouching to get a better look. He moved his hand forward, pressing down on the paper with his thumb, causing it to become concave. He used the scoop of it to scrape the salt to the side. He felt and awful burning in his fingers, because of the close proximity. He hissed through his teeth, pulling his hand back periodically and making slow work of the ring. His heart hammered in his chest, his breath ragged from the combination of fear and exertion.

He sat back once the deed was done, terrified. It wasn't even half a year since his last escape attempt. He knew that if he was caught again, they weren't going to be as lenient with him this time. To think about what the consequences of misbehavior would be this go around made him sick – nearly a year had passed inside this cell; nearly a year of these people investigating him inside and out, knowing precisely how to subdue him, how to hurt him – kill him, if they wanted to.

At length, he stood. Having another chance at escape, another chance to go home was worth the a deep breath and grunted, stepping past the ring, stumbling out of the circle and gasping for breath. He looked back at the lonely cot, then down to his ring. He curled his fingers in around it, going to the door.

He opened it just a crack, peeking out and seeing a dark figure in the hall. His heart nearly stopped and he retreated, closing the door as fear gripped him. A split second passed as he stood stock still against the door.

The handle turned from the outside, and the fairy almost cried out. "Tracy?" Though it was a harsh whisper, just the use of his name told the fairy that he had nothing to fear; Craig had come back for him. He opened the door, inching into the hall. He could hardly see anything for the lack of light. "What took you so long?" he asked.

"Took me a while to get it, actually," he admitted. "Where's Rae? Is she allright?"

"She's fine. She's in the next complex. I couldn't get her into the cell hall without it being manned; she still doesn't have Euclid clearance. She needed to be checked in by staff – me. She's got your stuff, and she'll get you out. Come on," he said, beckoning for the fairy to follow him, taking off down the hall at a fast pace. Tracy's body fought him, not having the energy for such an activity, especially after the salt line draining him so, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the thought of his wife at the end of the tunnel-like hallway pushed him.

They burst through the set of double doors, into the lobby of the second complex. His heart sank – where was Rae? It was nearly pitch black and there was no movement. He immediately feared for her. Something had happened to her, and the knot in his stomach tightened, and he wanted to call out to her. He took the breath and opened his mouth to call for her, to know she was safe, but his voice died in his throat. All he was able to manage was a desperate whimper as he felt her palm cup his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. He wanted to stop right there and simply hold her forever; likewise, she wanted nothing more than the just _be with him_, but she pulled back reluctantly, feeling his fingers trail across her arm.

It was the darkest part of the night – there was hardly a soul awake in the entire building, but they couldn't waste time; Rae and Craig had concocted a bit of a plan. It was all very simple, but the man had requested to be taken from the facility, along with the couple. Over the years, as the secrecy of the SCP increased, it had become so difficult to leave subterranean bases like Site-17. the man was sick of the place, especially after the last few months, after his experiences with Tracy's containment , and he wanted more than ever to leave, to resume the life he'd left behind nine years ago. He wanted his life in San Francisco, his job as a University Professor. He wanted to _escape_. Tracy did pity the man, knowing how it felt to be trapped and contained in this place. He couldn't imagine that his prison was any different from the other side of the cell walls, and he happily agreed, under the condition that he be dusted when they returned to The Human Plane. Of course, the fairy appreciated everything the man had done for him in the last few months, but SCP wasn't the only organization founded on secrecy. At least at Site-17, he knew the information gathered about him would remain secure. But Craig, as good of a man as he was, he was still only human, and he was veritable.

He told Tracy that he understood, that enough of the fairies' secrets had been stolen, that he was just protecting his kind. He agreed to the terms, and Rae pulled the thin wand from her belt.

There was a muffled bang, the sound of the double doors closing, and all three tensed. A light bobbed from around the corner – Craig cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten about the night watch. There were only two guards on night duty, the one occupying this floor and the one monitoring the lobby on the ground level. It was three against one, and they could probably take the man, had he not been armed. Tracy pulled them back, pulling Rae closer, protectively. He took her hand and put his free hand on Craig's shoulder, and took a risk, trying something that he hadn't done in nearly a year.

He took a deep breath, and held it.

The light bobbed around the corner, revealing the officer. He was a broad shouldered man, nearly as tall as Tracy. The fairy doubted they'd be able to take the man if the need arose. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his wife closer, an anchor as he started to become light headed. The last few months had drained him, had taken his strength and ability, and all too soon, a terrifying numb sensation spread through his extremities. He focused on the feeling of her against him instead of the burning in his lungs. The officer still lingered in the lobby. He grimaced, ducking his head to kiss the crown of hers, and he exhaled sharply, his chest heaving. The beam of light, obscuring its wielder in its intensity, flickered towards them.

It all happened too fast. There was a shout, and Craig grabbed Rae by the arm, pulling her one way, back to the hallway that connected the two buildings. He knew that those doors were fortified, harder to take down or shoot through, and if they could make it past the doors, secure them, thy would be safe.

Tracy did not see the safety of the connecting hallway, viewing it simply as a step closer to his cell. He pulled the opposite way, his grip on his wife's hand slipping as she was retched away from him. She cried out, but Tracy could not afford to give pause. His legs carried him across the lobby, farther away from his wife and safety, and he felt that same cold fear rip though him as he was hunted down. He stumbled forward, trying to catching himself without slowing down.

He heard the officer call out behind him, and he looked back, seeing the light dance crazily as the man was grappled with. There was a clatter, and the light fell to the floor, but he kept going. He had to find Rae in the darkness. There was one light, the electric red glow of the exit sign above the doors across the lobby. He ran for it, the feeling strangely similar to his last bid for escape. The exhausted man pulled up short the moment he noticed the odd, unsettling sensation. He braced his palm flat against the door, feeling the awful tingling sensation, not quite a burn, but familiar all the same. He pushed the door open, the feeling intensifying as he moved farther into the doorway. He pulled back, letting the doors fall shut with a soft, hollow noise, which barely masked the noise from behind him. The doorway was line with iron.

He didn't know if it was the door frame or the hinges, but however the door had been built hindered him, made it impossible to pass. He nearly laughed. His escape attempt, entirely useless as it was, would not have been any more successful even had he made it past all the scientists. He'd planned to use this exit; the moment he passed the threshold, he would have been incapacitated.

He stood blankly in the middle of the hall, hearing the footsteps thundering from down the blackened hallway. He tried to gauge his pursuer, but was unable to tell if they were friend or foe. The footsteps were light, which either indicated a low body mass or no gear or protection to fortify them. He braced himself for the brute to come bounding out of the dark, directly at him. He began backtracking, trying to give himself more time to prepare for impact, to fight his way back to the last lock or past them, but it happened too fast. They came rocketing towards him, and it was all he could do but register that there was now somebody there, and before he knew it, they'd thrown themselves at him wrapping their arms around his middle and—

Hugging him.

They were knocked to the ground by the force of it, and he sat there, feeling her shoulders heave and shake as he wrapped his arms around her, tears stinging at his eyes as he held Rae in his arms for the first time in more than a year. Her hands clutched at his back, at the old cell shirt, and he held her to him, running a hand through her hair and muttering softly to her, telling her how much he missed her, thanking her and telling her that they'd be safe, everything would be okay. There was another set of footsteps following hers and he held her closer, terrified for a moment before Craig broke through the veil of blackness. Tracy's shoulders relaxed, but only for a moment before the couple saw his expression, wide eyes and wild, fearful and urgent as he waved at the pair on the ground, telling them to go, _go_!

Rae pulled a wand from her belt, working it the way Diana had taught her, and they felt the whirlwind rush of magic surrounding them, sweeping their hair and clothes around them as Craig ran to join them in the vortex. He was just going to make it,Tracy could see, before the magic whisked them back to the safety of Fairy Land, where they would administer amnesia dust to the human and bring him back to his home in San Francisco.

There was a deafening pop, a boom that sent fear ripping through Tracy's heart. He knew what that was. He held Rae to him, shielding her and keeping her face pressed into his chest as Craig stopped, mere feet from the vortex, and dropped to his knees. Just emerging from the dark,Tracy could see a disgruntled officer standing, shocked as the man fell to the ground, staring lifeless up at the couple with a bullet lodged in his chest.

Tracy squeezed his eyes shut, horrified as the scene dissolved before them, magic swirling so fast around them that it formed a solid, protective wall around the two as they were transported from The Human Plane, to the safety of Fairy.

They remained on the ground, senseless as other fairies swarmed around them, excited, pulling them apart and dragging Tracy to the medical ward, taking Rae away from him; he didn't struggle, he didn't call out. He knew he'd have plenty of time to be with her, as soon as she was tended to.

He noticed a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach, the scene flashing before his eyes, seeing Craig's expression go from urgent to terrified to blank as he hit the floor, andTracy's knees nearly gave out from under him. It was then that he realized how weak he was, the adrenaline sapped from his limbs, and he was suddenly grateful of the ward.

Nurses separated them, tearing Rae from him and dragging them off in opposite direction to be tended to. They were safe, finally, and he resigned to the fact that he was weak, and needed to be tended to as well.

He didn't fight when the nurses eased him back into the bed, the soft sheets a welcomed sensation against his skin, and his muscles gave, his breathing heavy as the night's events caught up with him. They made him drink before they let him sleep, the Water coursing through him and replenishing the energy and magic that had been sapped from his body. He wanted Rae, he wanted her with him, to hold her as they rested, but the nurses were adamant about Tending to them separately.

He could not fight – he had no fight left in him, he realized, sinking willingly into the soft of the bed as he closed his eyes, mumbling for his wife.

It was several hours later, when Rae was released from the watch of the nurses – they'd helped settle her, made sure she wasn't hurt, and then released her, allowed her to sit by her husband's bedside.

She leaned back against the head board, running her hand through his hair. She couldn't keep the smile on her face, as much as she knew it belonged there, so overwhelmed to have him back, safe and sound at her side that tears began slipping down her cheeks.

She mumbled to him through her tears for nearly forty five minutes, though he was unconscious, that he was safe, that everything was going to be okay, refusing to leave his side, and when he finally began to stir, she held her breath, quickly wiping the water from her cheeks and smiling wearily down at him. He shifted slowly, bringing his fingers up to touch her neck, her cheek, and she covered his hand with her own, turning her head slightly and kissing the still-burnt skin of his palm.

Eyes still half-closed, he looked up at her, and a smile began to spread across his lips. "Thank you," he said, so softly that only she was able to hear it. He tried to sit up, but she pushed down on his shoulder, telling him to stay.

She bent her head and kissed him. "Rest," she said gently, removing his glasses, and without the obstruction of the eye ware, she could see just how they'd worked him, how the dark circled arced beneath his eyes, how the usual pallor of his cheeks was several shades too pale, and she smiled kindly down at him. "We're home. It's okay; rest."

He raised a hand and brushed her cheek. "Stay?"

She nodded, brushing the hair from his eyes. He'd need a hair cut once they were settled back home. She laughed lightly at the sentiment, wishing she could keep her mind on things like that instead of what she knew he'd been through. .

Rae knew that he had a lot to recover from. They'd very nearly killed him, the way they kept him from any source of magic for so long, sapped his energy and didn't bother to help him replenish the magic he needed to survive. The ward wouldn't hold him for very long, just enough so that they knew he was stable again, and they would get to go home, soon. It'd been so long since either one of them had been home, and she was glad that he would get a proper rest in the privacy of his own bed, with no one coming in during the night to draw blood or him having to fear what would come the next day.

He turned his head to the side, to look at the door, then back to Rae. He was still drained, and there was an unmistakable sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, something he'd become quite accustomed to in the last year, but this one was worse. This one was brought on by a blurry memory that was shrouded in the swirling pastel of the vortex that had carried them home. "Craig?" he asked, softly.

Rae's expression softened, eyebrows arching towards the center of her forehead and her lips pressed together tightly, a deep frown settling across her face as she shook her head ever so slightly, the smallest indicator that he hadn't made it with them. Tracy sighed and sunk into the pillow, the sick feeling rising. That's what he remembered, the terrifying bang of gunfire. He pushed himself up, with some effort, braced against the back of the bed, and took her into his arms, knowing that she felt the same for the loss of their friend, the only man who had helped them – the man who was responsible for their _escape_.

She rested her chin on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. "They'll want to clean up," he said, voice holding a hint of fear. She backed herself up, looking at his quizzically, but never breaking the contact, her hands on his, resting in his lap. "Lily. She'll want to send someone down there, dust every one who came in contact with me. The entire facility."

She moved his ruffled hair from his eyes. "I don't think we have to worry about that," she said darkly. "They'll take care of it on their own." A ghost of a smile graced her lips. "Don't forget, I worked there for five months. Nothing gets out of that place. No one fails. And even if they do, it never happened. By morning, no one who worked with you will remember. Everything will be redacted. No one will know," she said, and though her voice held a trace of sadness, both of them were relieved at the sentiment. Tracy knew that if any record of his time at Site-17 remained, Lily would have a fit, and she would, without a doubt, try to have the men and women who worked there dusted, their memories wiped clean of all existence of fairies. But it was so _dangerous_, to send anyone else into that hell.

He would never wish that upon anyone, no matter how well-trained they were, because they knew too much now. If a fairy was ever to fall to them again, they wouldn't have the same chances that Tracy had had. They wouldn't be able to come home.

_Home_.

"Rae…" he started, sitting up and feeling her shift to give him room. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Let's go home, my honeybee." He said, standing from the bed and pulling her up to meet him. He was still a bit light headed, but he could feel the effect of the Water on him – he felt much healthier, much better and much more like himself.

She laughed, a weak, breathy noise that still held traces of her tears. "I like that idea," she said, and he drew and arm around her shoulders as she placed one around his waist, and they left the ward, both ready to finally go home.


End file.
